


Notes in my locker.

by Justley



Series: Justleys rwg bingo cards [7]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Highschool AU, I use the F word A LOT, M/M, Rickyl Writers' Group, Rickyl Writers' Group Bingo 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justley/pseuds/Justley
Summary: Highschool AU Smutty oneshot





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaroonCamaro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/gifts).



> Another bingo fic. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a small oneshot then the RWG gang started talking and it grew!
> 
> Bingo squares in this one are: 
> 
> Awkward flirting  
> Secret admirer  
> Crazy romantic gestures (if you squint I suppose porn notes are romantic right)  
> Safety first and mixtape
> 
> Have fun! 
> 
> And remember, safe sex is fun!!
> 
>  
> 
> For marooncamaro because she's awesome and keeps me company at night despite me being a brat!

“Oh for fucks sake!” Daryl Dixons enraged shout echoed through the almost empty corridor, causing a miniscule looking first year to jump and squeak in fright, spilling her books all over the floor and sending pens scattering across the dirt smudged, standard fit cream floor tiles. Not even sparing the poor thing a glance, Daryl slams his metal locker shut with a resounding crash that manages to catch the attention of Mr. Walsh, the obnoxiously good looking, pig of a man who taught gym and sex Ed of all things. God Daryl wanted to crawl under the nearest desk and die of shame during that class. Watching that beautiful bear of a man posturing at the front of the class talking about fellatios made Daryl think of nothing but proving to Walsh just how knowledgeable he could be in that one area. Fuck that might even earn him his first ever A in class.  
  
Mr. Walsh’s head poked out from the doorway almost opposite Daryl’s locker and yelled. “Dixon! In here, now.” And mortifyingly the only thing that ran through Daryl’s stupid brain in that moment was ‘fuck yeah!’ Get a grip Dixon, he told himself. He was literally about to have his ass handed to him for cussing in the hallway all because some creepy fucker had left him another note in his locker tied to a fucking mixtape of all the lame ass, childish, stalker like things to happen.  
  
It’d been going on for months now. The notes started appearing in his locker about three weeks after the first homeroom. I mean sure, they were innocent enough, sweet sometimes even. Sometimes they were sickly sweet like that fucking homemade honey Merle had swiped from ol’ Mrs Jenkins across town. The type that settled on your tongue and made your teeth feel like they were rotting from the inside out. He was sure, when those kinds of notes started showing up that some stupid, innocent little first or second year girl had been slipping them through the tiny slits. They were all:  
  
‘ ** _Daryl, I think your hair looks really nice today, I’d love to know what kind of shampoo you use’_**

  
Or

  
_**‘I thought your new jeans made you look really nice. You should wear them more often.’**_  
  
Pft! Like he ever got any fucking new clothes, everything he owned came from some asshole that’d either grown out of them, Merle mainly, or had been stolen from some, poor unsuspecting fucker, by Merle, most of the time.

  
There were other notes, a fucktonne of them, almost every day he’d get to the end of his last class, head to his locker to stash any books he didn’t need for homework that night (no point taking them home and runnin the risk of them getting ruined just because Pa’s too fuckin wasted to realise they were books he’d spent his own precious beer money on) and there it would be, all fuckin hearts awkward flirting and love confessions. Sometimes though, there’d be ones that made him think that maybe it weren’t some stupid lovesick little kid, looking up at him with dreamy love drunk eyes thinking him something better than he is. Sometimes the notes got pretty explicit and these ones proved pretty quickly that it weren’t no little lovesick girl pining after him, that it was actually a guy leavin them and Daryl fucking loved it when these ones turned up. They didn’t happen too often maybe once every couple of weeks. Daryl kept those ones. It was like having a little stash of porn written especially for him, with him as the star of the show.  
  
‘ __ **Daryl, your ass looked so fucking good today I wish I could bury my face in it and get lost for hours’  
  
‘Dixon, you have no idea how much I wish I could stick my hands down those baggy jeans of yours behind the science block and jerk you so hard you’d think your legs would never work again.’  
  
‘Your lips look so good when the wind is cold, all red and swollen and I imagine them stretched so perfectly around my cock.’**  
  
Yeah ain't no way he’s getting rid of those ones. They live tucked safely away in the little cavity in his worn down mattress. His safe haven from when he’d taken his hunting knife to it, made a little slit and carved out a space for anything he has to hide from his brother or his Pa. Fuck, if either of them found out he liked dick for sure he’d end up buried in the woods with not even a grave marker to set his place. Sure, there were always rumours flying around and yeah, Merle had called him out on them one day after one too many hours spent chasing the bottom of a whiskey bottle but Daryl had set him straight, well, not strictly straight. He’d managed to pass it off as the kids at school bein jerks cos he was a Dixon. Merle had taken the bait hook line and sinker and Daryl had been extra careful not to get caught with a dick in his hand from that day on.  
  
So he shoulders his now marginally lighter rucksack and tries not to drag his feet as he hauls himself into Walsh’s class for the dressing down he’s sure as hell gonna get.

  
Yep, just as he expected, Walsh was practically steaming from the ears by the time he all but shoved Daryl out of the class with a detention slip for next Friday and an essay to write on ‘why foul language in our school is frowned upon’ the gorgeous prick. He heads right back to his locker as soon as he’s out of Walsh’s door and would you fucking believe that creepy little stalker had managed to slip another fucking note in his locker while he was in there earning himself a fucking detention. He snatches up the mixed tape and shoves it roughly into his bag, if he had any hope in hell of listening to it (not that he was gonna of course) he’d have to sneak out in Merle’s truck just to use the tape player. Thrusting his hand back in, he grabs up the newest note and unfolds it.  
  
‘ _ **You really shouldn’t yell so loud outside Walsh’s room, though I do love hearing that filthy mouth of yours. I’d love to see how loud I could make you cuss.’**_  
  
Fuck that’s kinda hot, yeah that ones goin in the secret stash too. He really needs to find out who this creep is and he really, really hopes it’s not some gawky, spotty prick that he fuckin hates else he might just have ta break his own rules and teach him to back off with his fists fer good measure. He ain't never gonna turn out like his Pa or Merle but there’s a big fucking difference between having some disgusting scrote of a kid fawning over him and having a creepy but hot as fuck guy waiting to get him off behind the school buildings. Big fucking difference.  
  
So he drags his ass home, ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the pricks in the year above him, especially that fucker Ross Innes, that guy really has it in for Daryl ever since he tried to get himself sucked off after a house party that Daryl definitely hadn’t been invited to but had turned up for anyway, there was free booze and his Pa was home screwing one of his disgusting whores across the coffee table. Ross Innes was way too fucking ugly for Daryl to even look at, let alone touch. Gah! Rick Grimes on the other hand….now that beautiful specimen of a boy, the one leaning so fucking perfectly up against the Hickory tree at the edge of the parking lot, now, that kid he’d gladly ride all fucking night long. He was a year below Daryl but he didn’t give a shit about that. The kid had the tightest fucking ass and always sauntered around in proper, tight, perfectly fitted jeans with those fucking thighs that he just wanted to rub his dick up against and get off on. His fucking amazing snake like hips that swayed with sex and confidence. Or the legs, oh holy shit the legs, bowed and just begging to be wrapped around something more supple than the wooden picnic benches scattered around the school field. He had these lips that were plump and pink and Daryl just wanted to nip them and tug them away from his mouth, licking all across that sinfully full bottom one. Fuck he needed to stop picturing every perfect fucking inch of that boy until he gets home and can jerk himself off. Please let the house be empty, please for the love of all things holy, please let the place be empty! He sends a silent prayer up to whatever god the charlatans pretend there is that neither his brother nor his Pa would be at home. He really didn’t wanna have to go find himself a quiet tree to jack off against, he wanted to grind his cock into his mattress and twist his pillow into his body, reading all the filthy notes and pretending they’re written in Rick’s handwriting, picturing that all the dirty things written on them were actually happening and that they were happening with Rick fucking Grimes.

  
Apparently his silent prayers sent to the gods of getting off were heard because as he worked his way through the woods and came across his shitty, engine covered front porch both his Pa’s and Merle's trucks were long gone and with it being a Tuesday night, half price night down at joe's shit hole of a bar, that meant he probably had the place to himself until the small hours of the morning. He barrels into the house at full speed, bolting the door behind him and slinging his rucksack on the filthy kitchen surface, scrabbling around until his hand lands on the two notes from today he sprints into his room, half hard already and strips down as fast as he can, climbs into bed and reaches into the recess of the mattress to pick out the rest of the notes, spreading them out across his pillow and reading each one at top speed. He lets his eyes slip out of focus after reading each one, letting play by play images of each filthy act detailed in explicit yet carefully poised writing run through his brain as he slowly starts to rock into the mattress, scrunching up the pillow underneath him so it tucks tight into his body. He can almost imagine it’s Rick underneath him, wrapping his arms around his body as he ruts against those fucking delicious thighs, his cock slides into Rick’s hip over and over. He imagines how that southern twang would sound spewing cuss words into his ear as Daryl grinds against him. He’d take Rick fucking Grimes and wreck him again and again and again until he begged Daryl not to make him come again. Oh fuck it feels so good, the slide of skin on skin. Bowed legs wrapped around his hips as they push against him trying to get more friction. He’d shove his fingers into that beautiful mouth and make Rick suck on them while he gets himself off thrusting and grinding, faster and faster until his teetering on the edge. Daryl squeezes his eyes shut and shoves his fingers into his own mouth, two of them as far as he can push them as he starts to come all over his bed, jerking and spilling all over the grime coated sheets until he’s gasping and spent, his head buried in his pillow as he tries to catch his breath.

 

  
**  
  
“Hey Dixon!” Ross is already waiting for him outside the office block when he walks across the parking lot three weeks later. Daryl is already sick of his shit and he’s only been there for five fucking minutes.  
  
“Fuck you Innes. Stop fucking putting shit in my locker you prick.” Daryl growls walking closer and getting right up in the assholes face, close enough to see every acne scar and disgusting pimple, close enough to smell his fetid morning breath. He pokes a finger into his chest and puts on his most threatening look.  
  
“Fuck you Dixon, I ain't been putting shit in yer locker.” He spits back and Daryl is too disgusted to even stand this close to him. He shoves Ross roughly once and spits on the ground at his feet. Before storming off to homeroom, his day already ruined before it's even fucking started.  
  
He’s almost across the lot when he hears someone chuckling quietly, far too close to him to be by accident and he swings round, fists raised, ready to kick the living shit out of whoever it is that’s just crept up on him and finds himself quite literally face to face with Rick Grimes.  
  
“You got a dirty mouth on you, you know that Dixon?” Daryl nearly fucking dies because Grimes is just inches away from being plastered against his body, his palms are held out in a calming gesture all Daryl can think about is how wide they are for a kid his age and how fucking good they’d look wrapped around his dick. He looks up and imagines that Rick’s eyes look hungry as fuck and Daryl licks his lips without even meaning too before he reigns back his tight control once more.  
  
“Watcha want Grimes?” He growls, leaning in slightly, willing the kid to say: ‘your cock so far down my throat it hurts’ but that’s not gonna happen in a parking lot surrounded by a hundred other kids.  
  
“Havin a party Friday night, my folks are out of town for the weekend, you busy?” Why the fuck is he getting an invite to a fucking house party? No one ever actually invited him, he’d just hear about free booze, turn up, drink until he’s shitfaced and then stagger on home again. Maybe a quick fumble with some drunk rich kid too wasted to realize that they’re letting a Dixon fuck them senseless. Then he’d go home and if the place was empty, which it usually was on the weekend he’d shove his fingers in his own ass and ride them till he came again because he aint found no one yet who he’d let fuck him like that.  
  
“Party at the sheriff's house? Ain't ya a bit too much of a good boy fer that Grimes?” Yeah and there’s those hungry fucking eyes again God-fucking-Damnit this kids pretty.

“Why doncha come along on Friday and find out?” Then he’s turning and walking off to homeroom and Daryl is just not…fucking….moving because those sexy as fuck hips actually slither like a fucking snake as he walks, swaying back and forth. Even the sound of those run down cowboy boots clicking across the asphalt is turning him on. Get a fucking grip Dixon je-sus.

At the end of the school day Daryl opens his locker to find yet again another note.

‘ _ **Safety first.**_ ’

He scowls when he reads it, confused at what it means, he scans the hallway but there’s no one around. He’s late out because Mrs. Monroe called him in the office to rag on him about bullying, apparently some asshole had gone crying to the Deputy Head about him and his fucking attitude. Didn’t take too much to work out which spotty prick it was, fuck even Merle with his reduced fucking brain cells coulda worked out that Innes was behind it. Prick.

He’s just shoved the note in his pocket and reached back in to swop his history textbook for the science one he’ll need over the weekend when he spots an envelope that’d obviously slipped down the side of his books as it’d been dropped through the slits. He laughs when he opens it and four little sachets of lube and four different flavoured condoms slip out onto his palm. He laughs because now he understands the note and because he’s got a pretty fucking good idea who the notes have been coming from over these last few months. If he’s right, oh fuck if he’s right this could make his whole fucking year. He slips the lube and condoms into his bag, hiding them in his maths book because he knows there’s no way Merle or his Pa would even touch a maths book, not even if hell itself demanded it, then starts the long slog home through the woods already planning exactly what he’s gonna wear on Friday night.

 

  
**

 

He chooses his least shitty pair of black jeans, Merle’s old Jimmi shirt and the angel winged leather vest he’d ‘acquired’ from his uncle Jess before he’d been locked back inside for a drug deal gone wrong. He’d even made a decent attempt at running his fingers through his hair after getting it washed in the rare hot shower he’d managed to grab before leaving the house. He was takin a chance in stealing Merle’s bike for the night but he figured he’d be ok this once, his Pa had a new piece of tail he’d been running around after and it wasn’t likely he’d be back all weekend and Merle was off in Atlanta running drugs like the idiot he is. So when he gets to the Grimes residence his hair is a fucking mess once more, his cheeks are red from the wind and his lips are dry as fuck. He needs a drink and he hopes to god that Grimes has alcohol. The roar of the motorcycle pulling up to the drive obviously carries through to the house and someone opens the door to let him in without him even needing to knock. He doesn’t recognise the kid, or most of the kids inside either so he just roughly shoves his way through to the kitchen where, thank fuck, there’s bottles and bottles of booze. He grabs hold of an almost full bottle of scotch, the good stuff, not the shit that tastes like paint stripper laced with ash and starts drinking straight from the bottle.

He’s been there twenty fucking minutes already and hasn’t caught sight of Grimes yet, just a bunch of kids he vaguely recognises from school as they sway in and out of the kitchen to refill their cups and the odd “Hey Dixon!” thrown his way. He’s made a pretty good dent in the Scotch already and he’s feeling unsteady on his feet so swings out the back door for a smoke. He barely manages to steady himself against the wall as the fresh air hits him like a punch to the gut and makes his head spin. Still, he lights his smoke and takes a long, deep drag on it, leaning his head back against the wood panelled wall and lets his eyes close so the world stops spinning on it’s axis but his mind fucking hates him and as soon as his eyes are firmly shut all he can think about in his hazy, semi-wasted state is how Grimes had looked at him with his bluest fucking eyes all laced with imagined heat and the way Rick’s ass had looked as he’d walked across the school. This was not the fucking time or place to get a raging hard on but apparently his dick had a mind of it’s own and standing here on Rick’s back porch, drinking his booze and thinking about his dick was obviously having an effect. Daryl seriously considers for a moment just shoving his hand down his jeans and jerking himself off right here, out in the open, spilling out over Grimes’ decking. He palms himself roughly for a second, enjoying the violent throb that starts in his dick and floods through his body. He’s so lost in his little fantasy of coming all over Rick’s house that he doesn’t hear the soft padding footsteps approaching, not until fingers gently brush over his knuckles and pinch the still burning smoke from his hand. His head jerks up wildly, eyes flying open and his fists are up and braced for a fight already, for the second time this week he’s face to face with Rick Grimes, poised and ready to kick the shit out of him before he realises who it is.

“Jumpy little thing aren’t ya Dixon?” Rick’s smooth, deep southern rumble resounds in his head like a fucking mating call, the smirk on Rick's mouth as he brings Daryl’s cigarette to his lips and takes a deep pull might actually be the hottest thing Daryl’s ever seen and he’s done willing his dick to stand down, he could scream at it until the cows come home but having this walking specimen of sin standing before him makes it impossible for it to do anything other than throb so fucking hard it makes Daryl’s head spin again.

“Could help you with that you know.” Rick says, pointedly looking at where Daryl’s dick is straining hard against his jeans and licking his lips when he does.

“Yeah,” He manages to croak out and advancing on Rick “You fucking can.” He grabs Rick and roughly spins him around so he’s pressed hard against the house and starts to devour those beautiful fucking lips that’ve been driving him insane for months. Rick tastes like vodka and ash and Daryl licks into his mouth, pulling as much taste as he can into his own and groaning when Rick's hands grip hold of his hips and pull him closer.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good Grimes.” Daryl growls as he moves down to bite across Ricks skin, groaning again at how salty it tastes and how much it makes him desperate to suck the kid’s dick and drink him down.

“Ah shit, I told ya how much I love that filthy mouth of yours Dixon, Je-sus” Rick moans as Daryl bites hard along his collarbone, grinding their straining dicks together through their jeans.

“S’that right Grimes?” He growls as his hands start pawing at the buckle of Rick’s belt, desperate to tear them open and get a good look at what he’s gonna be workin with. That is until Rick's own hands drop down and grab him roughly by the wrists, halting his movements. “S’wrong kid, gone all shy on me now have ya? Or are ya just a fuckin tease?” Daryl tries hard not to spit the words out with as much venom as he usually does because he really doesn’t want this kid to run off with his feelings hurt but he’s wound tighter than a virgin’s ass, he’s desperate to get his fucking rocks off tonight and if Grimes is gonna leave him hanging he’ll fucking scream.

“Second door on the right at the top of the stairs. I’ll be there in five.” Rick says before pushing himself away from the wall and walking back inside. “Bad luck you lot, party’s over someone called the cops and you’ve got about five minutes to get the fuck off my block.” He hears Rick shouting at the kids still milling around inside. Fucking gorgeous genius, Daryl thinks as he slips in and slinks his way upstairs avoiding the mad dash of bodies that hightail it to the door, cussing and screaming as they try and get out before the imagined cops turn up. Second door on the right, second door on the fucking right, ahhh. He slips inside and pulls up short, he’d sort of been expecting the typical sports posters and half naked girls but really it’s pretty basic in here. A bit like his own room. He pokes around in some of the draws while he waits, nothing interesting, kids a fuckin book nerd though that’s for sure. He flicks through some of the text books haphazardly strewn across the desk and comes across a biology essay which makes his now softening cock start to fill back up again because it’s written in the same fucking handwriting as all the sweet and filthy notes that have been making their way into his locker confirming his earlier suspicions.

Daryl spins round when the door creaks open and Rick steps in looking flushed and bright eyed and Daryl just wants to pin him to the bed and rub his dick all over those fucking thighs. “Fuckin knew it was ya slippin notes in ma locker.” He snorts, dropping the essay back onto the desk and turns round to lean his ass against the wood as Rick moves closer, shutting the door firmly behind him, slowly unbuttoning his dark navy shirt and shrugging it off to lay discarded on the floor.

“Get on the bed Grimes.” He growls and starts peeling his own layers off, vest slung onto the desk chair as Rick sits on the edge of the bed, with ab muscles that ripple as he lowers himself down. Fuck, that dark patch of hair that runs from his navel into his jeans, thicker than his own but still sparse because they’re young. Daryl wonders just how thick that hair will get when Rick is a man. T-shirt on the floor as Rick lays back and starts unbuckling his belt with clever fingers that Daryl just fucking wants inside him already. Boots kicked to the corner of the room as Rick plants his feet on the bed, lifting those fucking hips to drag his jeans down and oh fuck those fucking thighs, they’re even better without a layer of denim covering them up, strong muscles that bunch as he lowers himself back down, coated in a layer of dark curly hair and Daryl’s brain starts fizzing as his gaze gets progressively higher and lands on the outline of hard dick hidden underneath tight black boxers. He carefully shoves his own jeans down and pulls them off, thirsty as fuck to just shove his face in Rick’s lap and mouth over his dick soaking the cotton as he tongues at it and he just knows it’s gonna be a fucking pretty one too. Daryl already wants it coated in slick and pushing inside of him because Rick fucking Grimes is the one boy he’ll happily bend the fuck over for. He walks over, lowering himself down on the bed and crawls along Rick’s body planting his face right against the straining dick and breaths in a deep lungful as Rick groans above him. He mouths over the cotton just like he had imagined, tasting the tiny patch of salty fluid that has already leaked out, dragging his teeth along the length and chuckling slightly when Rick’s hips grind into his face.

“Shit Daryl.” Rick groans as he twists his fists into the sheets at his sides and Daryl wonders just how many times Rick’s had someone’s mouth around him before now. Thinking of that makes Daryl remember the notes in his locker and how explicit they were, how Rick wanted Daryl’s lips wrapped around him, how he wanted to see just how loud he could make Daryl cuss while they screwed and how….how….oh fuck, he knows exactly what he’s gonna do. He grabs Rick’s hips and roughly pulls him further down the bed so he’s lying flat, kneels up towering over the beautiful boy almost naked below him and finally works his own boxers off, throwing them across the room and crawling up Rick’s body as they land. He comes to kneel up right in front of Rick’s face, his own leaking dick standing tall and proudly jutting out from his body as Rick looks on with wide, dangerously dark eyes, wondering exactly what his next move will be no doubt. With a grin Daryl starts stroking himself as Rick’s hands land on his hips and dig into his skin like barbed wire causing a shiver to run through him and his hips to jerk in a tiny aborted motion. Fuck this is gonna be good.

“Said ya liked my filthy mouth Grimes?” Daryl growls, looking down his body at Rick’s eyes, glued to where his hand is slowly working himself. Rick nods, his mouth opens but no sounds come out and Daryl grins again looking positively wicked. “Good boy. Said ya wanted ta bury that pretty face of yers in my ass right?” Rick’s eyes bore into his own and Daryl doesn’t miss the way that pretty pink tongue peeks out and drags across his lips as he nods again. That hungry look seeping back across his face. “Good, cos that’s exactly what yer gonna do Grimes, yer gonna lick me open, get me ready fer that pretty dick of yers.”

“Fuck!” Is the last thing Daryl hears before he sits down on Rick's face, groaning when he feels hands grab hold of his asscheeks and pull them apart so Rick’s mouth can have better access. Daryl pitches forward slightly, grabbing hold of the headboard to brace himself as a tongue drags over his sensitive flesh, lapping around his hole and dipping inside. It’s fucking heaven feeling Rick’s hot breath against his balls as he licks and sucks, fingernails digging into Daryl’s cheeks like they want to slice his skin open and fuse their bodies together.

Daryl starts stroking himself in time with Rick’s panting breaths, rolling his hips slightly and grinding against Rick’s fucking face. Shit, he could come just from this, just from having Rick lick him open while he jerks himself off. It’s so fucking hot. Especially when Rick starts moaning and the vibrations start caressing Daryl’s balls adding in another layer of pleasure. He can feel Rick bucking slightly, trying to get some sort of friction for his own dick as he smothers himself in Daryl’s ass and so Daryl takes pity on him. Lifting up so Rick can gasp in a desperate breath. Kid looks like he’s been fucking all night, his thick curls are a state, sweat soaked and sticking up in weird angles, his face is red where Daryl’s own thick pubic hair has scraped over the skin and his mouth is fucking dripping with saliva. Fuck it's hot. Really fucking hot and Daryl is just about done with foreplay.

“Man Grimes, ya look fuckin wrecked already, ya sure yer up fer this?” He smirks, knowing there ain’t no way they’re gonna stop now. He moves away from Rick’s face and back down his body as Rick finally finds his voice, all husky and sex laden.

“So fucking up for this Dixon, fuck I’ve been dreaming of this since the start of the school year.” He moves his hands to his own dick obviously desperate to take some of the edge off but Daryl stops him by grabbing hold of his wrists and pinning them to his sides, leaning down and nipping at Rick’s nipples, loving the way he gasps and tries to pull out of Daryl’s grip.

“Please tell me you got lube Grimes, I want this to be really fuckin good.” Daryl growls against Rick’s bucking body and feels it when he starts to laugh. Pulling up to look Rick in the eyes he can see the amusement on the kids face and scowls thinking he’d missed some fucking important joke here.

“You mean you didn’t bring it with you? Oh and I put that in your locker especially for tonight…Daryl.” Fuck even the way Rick says his name makes him fucking hard as hell. Oh! He suddenly remembers the lube and condoms that had ended up in his locker a few days ago and how they were currently stashed in the little safe cavity of his mattress, completely forgotten about and he wants to kick himself for being so fucking stupid. “There’s some in the second draw, condoms too.” Rick nods to the bedside table and Daryl moves quicker than lightning, ripping the draw open, pulling out a little bottle of strawberry flavoured lube and a single condom. He flicks the lid open and grabs hold of Rick’s right hand, drips a little onto his fingers and shoves it between his legs as he works on getting the condom wrapper open.

“Put yer fingers inside me, two of them.” And he gasps the fingers enter him, slowly pulling his walls open, getting him ready for the dick that he hasn’t even set eyes on yet. God Grimes is one patient fucker Daryl will give him that.

“Fuck Daryl that fucking mouth of yours.” Rick groans pushing into Daryl all the way up to his knuckles, his other hand now firmly on his own dick and Daryl lets him because he’s almost stretched enough, just a little bit more. Then Rick brushes against his prostate, something he’s only managed to find once on his own and he jerks forward an obscene drop of precome falls from his twitching dick and lands on Rick’s stomach and he’s so fuckin ready. He chucks the empty condom wrapper on the floor and pulls Rick’s fingers away, tugging his boxers just low enough to let his dick spring free, too fucking desperate to take them all the way off. Fuck he was right, Rick’s dick is really fucking pretty. Long and thick, red and straining, dribbling precome in a steady stream onto the hair covered flesh below and it takes every ounce of strength Daryl has not to bend down and lick it up. Instead he rolls the condom on quicker than he’s ever done it before, reaching for the lube and smearing some down the shaft. Rick bucks up into his hand as he slicks it up, groaning through gritted teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. Daryl sneers, a filthy as fuck grin because he’s gonna show Grimes the best fucking time of his young life.

Daryl positions Rick’s cock right at his entrance, loving the burning sensation he gets as he slowly starts lowering himself down, feeling the thick head pop past that first ring of muscles as he goes, inch by inch and Ricks eyes are wide and blown out, he’s baring his teeth like a feral animal as he desperately tries not to push his hips up and bury himself into Daryl before he's ready.

“Hold on Grimes, we’re getting there.” Daryl growls as he slides further down and the burning gives way to the most delicious feeling of being full. Finally his ass makes contact with Ricks hips and he slowly grinds himself down once. Rick’s hands fly to Daryl’s thighs and squeeze the muscles there almost as if any lighter grip and Daryl would disappear.

“Christ Daryl your ass is so fucking tight!” Rick groans out as Daryl moves again, testing the waters.

“Gonna make me cuss Rick? Gonna make me scream? S’what yer note said ain't it?” Daryl whispers grasping at the shreds of his own control because he’s so fucking wound tight and he just wants to ride Rick so fucking hard right now.

“Fuck yeah Daryl, fuck that’s what I said.” Rick’s fingers grip tighter and Daryl feels himself shift forward as Rick plants his feet on the mattress to give him leverage and suddenly Daryl is the one holding on, holding onto Rick's shoulders as Rick is fucking pounding into him hard. Balls slap against his ass as Grimes fucking destroys him.

“FUCK, OH FUCKING FUCK GRIMES.” Daryl shouts as Rick scrapes against his prostate. He’s almost blind with the pleasure that radiates from that one special spot as Rick fucks into him again and again and again.

“C’mon Dixon scream for me sweetheart.” Rick growls as he fucks into Daryl even harder, one hand grabs hold of Daryl’s leaking dick and starts tugging in time to his thrusts and Daryl’s not sure how much longer he’s gonna be able to hang on for because this is the best fuck of his life. No amount of riding his own fingers has ever come anywhere near as close to how fucking amazing it is having Rick so deep inside him. Rick’s hand tightens around him and twists as it reaches the top and Daryl does scream then, because his orgasm is slamming into him like a fucking hadron collider and Rick is still railing him as come spills all over Rick’s hand, his stomach and all the way across his beautiful chest. Daryl falls forward, his muscles spazming like he’s having a fit and Ricks hands wrap around his back holding him close as he continues pounding in a frenzy slamming hard into Daryl and all he can do is just lie there desperately trying to catch his breath, twitching with how fucking over sensitive he is now he’s spilled his come already.

Rick is groaning and hissing cuss words into Daryl’s hair as his hips start jerking, his arms squeeze tighter around Daryl’s body and he feels Rick’s dick pulsing as his own come fills the condom deep within him.

“Oh fuck-ing-hell.” Rick cries out into Daryl’s hair as he comes, his own muscles quivering along with Daryl’s as their heartbeats thrum wildly in their chests.

Daryl rests against Rick's chest until he feels him start to slip from his body. With a grimace he pushes himself up and laughs at how messed up Rick looks lying beneath him, panting wildly and dripping in sweat. He leans down and scrapes his mouth along Rick’s throat, licking at the beads of sweat that have accumulated there, just wanting to carry a little taste of that salt home with him. He pushes himself off the bed and quickly gathers up his clothes, pulling them on even as Rick strips himself of the condom, chucking it into the trash can near the desk and sits up to stare, open mouthed at Daryl who’s already got his jeans pulled up and is working on his boots.

“What’re you doing Daryl?” Ricks soft voice, full of confusion makes Daryl turn around to look as he pulls his t-shirt back on and reaches for his vest.

“The mixed tape was good.” Daryl says with a grin and then laughs at the look of utter confusion across Ricks face. He swings his vest on and without another word walks out leaving Rick sated and utterly fucking shocked.

Daryl speeds home on Merle's bike, the alcohol he'd had having burnt off through the vigorous sex, tearing into the driveway he slams on the breaks, making sure to leave it in the exact same spot Merle had left it so he doesn't run the risk of getting caught. He heads straight into his bedroom and strips off, gently pressing his fingers inside his hole just for a moment, loving the feel of the still stretched and slick entrance and a small part of him wishes that Rick hadn't worn a condom because he'd love to lie here and feel Ricks come dripping from his body.

He sighs and pulls his fingers back out turning over to shove his face in his pillow, reaching under the mattress for the notes that hold an even better meaning now that he knows Rick wrote them, knowing just how fucking amazing Rick's dick feels as it pushes into his body. Fuck if he hadn't already come harder than he ever had tonight he'd be jerking off already. Instead he pulls out a couple of notes and shoves them under the pillow before nuzzling in and drifting off to sleep, falling into filthy dreams faster than he ever has before.

  
For the rest of the weekend Daryl spends most of his time holled up in his bedroom. Neither his Pa or Merle had bothered coming home, leaving him to fend for himself as usual. Not that he gives a fuck, it's better when they ain't here. Daryl can eat and drink what he wants and lounge around on his bed without a care in the world, enjoying the little slice of solitude the older Dixon’s absences allow him. He also gets a chance to replay Friday night over and over in his head like the best fucking porno ever made. So he does, with his fingers buried deep in his ass, his dick in his hand and his sheets so covered in come and lube that by the time Sunday night comes around he's just about ready to tear them off his bed and burn them in the back yard.

  
**

  
Daryl catches sight of Rick leaning against the Hickory tree again on Monday morning and he drinks in Rick’s easy, relaxed pose as he laughs at something one of the boys surrounding him says. As soon as they lock eyes Rick’s smile drops from his face so fast it almost makes Daryl laugh. Instead he shifts his bag higher on his shoulder, dips his head down and carries on walking. Seconds later Rick is walking beside him and Daryl does grin then. Hook line and fuckin sinker, he thinks as Rick clears his throat.

  
“Why'd you run out on me Daryl?” Rick’s voice is low and guarded as he walks, matching Daryl step by step. Daryl leads them round the back of the gym block, Rick following like an obedient puppy and he grins even wider, hiding his face slightly inside the folds of his jacket hood. As soon as they're out of sight of all the other kids milling around in the car lot, Daryl swiftly pushes Rick against the wall causing Rick’s breath to hiss out between his teeth on the contact. Daryl leans forward and kisses the shit out of the pretty mouth he'd just spent the whole weekend fantasising about, licking into it and dragging Rick’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back leaving Rick red faced, flustered and gasping for air.

  
“Lookin forward to seeing what yer notes’r gonna be about now Grimes, make em good n I might just suck that pretty dick of year next time.” Daryl says with a wicked grin before turning around and leaving a very flustered but grinning Rick against the wall and heading off to class. Yeah this week’s gonna be a fuckin good one alright. 


End file.
